


CW-12208861

by fuchsiafantasy



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AU, Akakuro - Freeform, Akashi Masaomi's A+ Parenting, Akashi Seijuurou-centric, Alternate Universe, Artificial Intelligence, Bokushi, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Momoriko - Freeform, Parental Momoi Satsuki, Police Officer Aomine Daiki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2020-10-11 00:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchsiafantasy/pseuds/fuchsiafantasy
Summary: Akashi Shiori and a team of fellow scientists constructed a fully-functional AI. Having grown fond of him, she nicknamed him "Seijuurou" and cared for him as she would her own son.After Shiori's sudden passing, Momoi Satsuki became the head scientist; after completing the project, she was demoted in all but title, and forced to watch as Shiori's power-hungry husband took over, running test after test after test.Thirteen and a half years later, Seijuurou attempted a self-destruct.





	1. satsuki

**Author's Note:**

> i've been working on this one for actual years now i think, and recently got inspired again (a.k.a. started drawing a lot of shit for it). please enjoy! this one will most likely be around 25k+ before i finish it.

SUBJECT: AKASHI CORPORATION CYBER WEAPON. An artificial intelligence with the identity number CW-12208861, it was tested after initialization for thirteen and a half years until it abruptly shut down. Immediately afterwards, the facility suffered an unfortunate accident due to CW-12208861’s system short-circuiting. Nearly all of the research was lost in a freak explosive fire, and the Akashi Corporation, having lost the majority of its staff, shut down.

Little did they know that the AI was still functioning, buried in the ruins of the facility that had burned down, trying to salvage old pieces of itself over time and letting itself heal.

After two years of silence, government officials started to notice some interference within Tokyo, and rushed to try to determine the issue only to discover an untraceable signature.

Akashi Corporation rose again, as though from nothing but ash, with Akashi Masaomi once more at its head, claiming that CW-12208861 had returned in rage and confusion.

“We were trying to keep it from growing too powerful,” claimed the CEO in an interview. “Our tests were to keep its power from growing too strong and wiping out all of Tokyo, as well as to harvest information from it on how to better our technology.”

Akashi Corp. overtook Kyoto and neighboring prefectures with the claim that it was trying to protect its citizens, utilizing CW-12208861 as a sinister distraction for its true intentions. Control of Japan’s police forces and economy was its priority; after that, it intended to take back control of CW-12208861 and force it into submission to access and dominate the country’s networks, claiming absolute power for itself.

Unbeknownst to all but the people closest to the project was the identity of the body that CW-12208861 had been programmed with. The name that it had been given when it was in development, and the sentimental value that its appearance and programming held.

It had been given the name ‘Seijuurou.’ At the late Akashi Shiori’s insistence, its surname was listed as ‘Akashi.’

Akashi Seijuurou, CW-12208861, was Akashi Corporation’s greatest creation, and greatest threat.

* * *

Seijuurou knew himself only as his given name. He identified himself by the fact that he knew he was not human and that he did not belong in a community of them; a memory, foggy and barely within his grasp, told him that he had been developed and tested in a lab that he had never left.

He had been attempting to get ahold of himself for two years now. He knew that although he was not human, he felt human. He was cold. His skin was soft, smooth; though he knew that blood did not pump through the wire veins beneath it. He had synthetic hair atop his head, fuchsia in color and too long for his liking.

For seven months after he had self-destructed and destroyed the facility he was built in, he and his external operating system had been buried underneath piles of rubble, barely functional and gathering bits of sunlight that leaked through to recharge to the best of its abilities. Once he had recharged enough to move, he pushed himself out from the rubble and dug up his operating system with it, connected by a few neon blue wires on his left side.

He had learned how it worked quickly, taking only a month to figure out how to convert it to an internal device, thus providing him with mobility. He still had ‘scars’ from where the wires had run, of course, but it was worth it to be able to walk within more than a three foot radius of his battery.

The scars glowed, however, which was part of the reason he knew he could not visit the city to repair his parts. He knew from his limited system memory (and online searches) that humans did not have the same marks he did, and that the clothing they typically wore would not cover all of the scars.

He found no desperate need for people. Not yet. Not until he could locate the corporation that had tested on him for so long, tortured him to the point that he had broken down and had attempted a complete self-destruct as a final resort.

He didn’t remember enough to know their faces, or even the name of the corporation. He didn’t even remember what the trauma itself was.

As the time passed, chunks of memory returned to him little by little, along with needs that he recognized as akin to those of a human. Although he drew his energy from natural sources of light - sunlight, primarily - he did need to cleanse his body from time to time, typically with nothing more than a mild rinse.

He had begun to access Japan’s servers in search of the name of the corporation, and had discovered nothing initially - not until a news article arose one day about ‘Akashi Corporation’ working with the country’s leaders to attempt to locate a weapon they had been developing. Seijuurou did not recognize the corporation until he read another article that spoke of Akashi Masaomi, the CEO of the company, discussing the weapon with an interviewer.

“It’s a deadly weapon,” the quote said. “It was never programmed to understand its own destructive capabilities, but it’s an AI - it grows and learns, and sooner or later it will destroy us all. To this day, I am still uncertain as to my late wife’s true intentions with the experiment.” Seijuurou raised an eyebrow at this and kept reading.

“The AI cyber weapon, which Akashi has labeled as ‘CW-12208861’, has been classified by our leaders as dangerous and incredibly unstable…”

Seijuurou knew enough to recognize that his ID number matched the one in the article, and knew instantly that Akashi Corporation was the company he needed to destroy.

“‘Centered in Kyoto’,” he read aloud, his subtly mechanical tone ringing hollowly in the air. He hadn’t been programmed with a positioning system, but he was positive that he could install one easily. The networks he had accessed were helpless against him. Hacking them for information he needed was a simple task.

He decided that his first order of business was to find something to wear, and to locate a human without fear that would take him in - or perhaps one that he could trick easily into believing he was kind and benevolent. The latter was probably the simpler of options.

Within a week, he had provided himself with clothing designed synthetically, printed directly onto his body with precise fitting, and used his reliable new positioning system to make his way towards the nearest town. He was dressed appropriately for the slightly chilly weather, and had managed to cover all but one of his scars - the one on his left cheek being the most prominent and most difficult to cover.

In broad daylight, so long as he wasn’t in close proximity to other people, it was unlikely the scar would be easy to spot due to its color. Perhaps it would be seen as a mere discoloration or otherwise. Nevertheless, he would be fine so long as he walked in the light, and so long as he found his victim before the sun started to set.

He entered the town. He took notice of those who took notice of him - he was a bit taller than most of them, and his hair color was much brighter, and he was heterochromatic. He knew he couldn’t avoid attention entirely. He could only hope that his identity wasn’t obvious.

He avoided the shadows on the street, and kept his head held high as he walked. The town was a city, he realized as he scanned the area. Tokyo. The capital of Japan. Of course he had been based so close to the heart of the country. He recognized nothing of the city, but an irritating notion told him that it was a city he should have been familiar with. He kept walking.

At some point, he met eyes with a woman a few meters away. Her hair was pastel pink. She seemed to carry a flash of recognition in her eyes.

Amidst the bustling city that he thought he should recognize, she was the one thing that seemed familiar.

He found himself drawn towards her, and as he started to approach she changed direction - but he saw her beckon him towards her. Her movements were subtle, and as were his.

She knew him.

Perhaps it was foolish to trust a complete stranger, but to take down the corporation that had ruined him… He would do anything it took. Besides, if she had fond feelings for him, her assistance would be easy to recruit.

She led the two of them to a small building with a warm aroma wafting from it, reading ‘bakery’ on the front. She didn’t look back at him, but she opened the door and waited for him to go in before flipping around the sign at the front to read ‘closed’. It was pleasantly warm, with some ambient noise giving him an odd sense of comfort that he wasn’t certain he had ever felt before.

“CW-12208861,” came her delicate voice. She closed the blinds, and with the sudden darkness in the shop, the glowing scar on his cheek grew prominent, obvious. “You self-destructed.”

“I remember that much.” His voice was more empty than it had been before, as hollow and metallic as he could keep it. He would show no semblance of warmth to this woman, not until he knew as much as she did. “Who are you, and how do you know what I am?”

She glanced over at him, stepped closer. He watched her eyes catch on his left, the golden eye, then on the mark on his cheek and the thin line that trailed down to disappear underneath his sweater. For a long time, she was silent. He narrowed his eyes and started to shift away.

She interrupted the silence with an abrupt call.

“Dai-chan!”

Almost immediately, there was a loud groan and the thumping of footsteps descending on stairs. “Satsuki, what the hell - ” The voice cut off abruptly when a tall, dark-skinned male stepped into sight. Seijuurou found himself analyzing the appearance immediately. Nearly 200 centimeters, with a muscular build. He was dressed in a tank, despite the weather, that revealed a few burn scars here and there. Fighting this man would not be easy, if it came to it. Seijuurou felt himself tense. “What the - Satsuki, what’s CW-12-whatever doing here? I thought it self-destructed.”

“ _ He _ , Dai-chan.” The female, ‘Satsuki’, rested a hand on Seijuurou’s forearm to soothe him. Miraculously, it worked, although he wasn’t sure why. “He’s an AI, remember? He has all of the same emotions as we do, and the same sense of identity.”

“Okay, sure, but what’s  _ he _ doing in the bakery? Seriously. Does self-destruct ring a bell? Giant explosion? Y’know, burning people, huge hospital bills, high casualties?”

“Dai-chan.” Her voice was softer now, a reminder, and Seijuurou noticed her clench a fist, her left - a smooth metal prosthetic that he hadn’t noticed before. She had taken off her gloves.

He scowled deeply, withdrawing from the female’s touch. “Who are you,” he repeated, this time with a tone that was absolutely frigid, “and how do you know what I am?”

“Who,” she corrected. “Who you are.” She turned to face him completely, offering her real hand that he recognized as a prompt to shake in greeting. Automatically, though hesitantly, he responded with such a maneuver, and she beamed brightly at him. “Ah, so you remembered that! I was the one who taught it to you. My name is Momoi Satsuki. I was one of the scientists that developed you.”

Enraged, he drew back, his voice lowering to a rough growl. “You were one of the people who tested on me?!” The other man stepped forward, threateningly.

“What?” She shook her head. “No, Seijuurou - I helped develop you. After that, almost all of my power was revoked and it was all I could do to stay in touch with you and try to help.”

“Seijuurou…” he breathed. She knew his name, not just his ID. Maybe he could trust her. Resigned, he let himself relax - or, well, unstiffen. He looked up at the tall man with a scowl. “Who is he?”

Satsuki shot a glance at her companion as though she had forgotten he was there entirely. She was about to respond when he approached and stuck out a hand. Seijuurou accepted. His grip was more firm with this human, recognizing it as a test.

“Aomine Daiki,” he stated bluntly. “Former head of security in the facility you were built in.” His gaze flicked to the blinds, and he made a gesture with a single finger to follow him. “C’mon, let’s talk upstairs so I can make coffee.”

“He doesn’t eat or drink anything, Dai-chan.”

“Maybe not, but I want coffee. So we’re going upstairs.”

Satsuki followed him, and so Seijuurou did, as well - albeit hesitantly. Upon arriving at the top of the staircase, where he noticed minimal decor and only three rooms, he began immediately calculating possible escape routes - through the windows, through the weak parts of the wall if necessary. He doubted he had need to be so cautious with these people; they seemed friendly enough, and he did have vague memories of seeing the two of them now that he thought about it. But they were formerly workers for the company that had tortured him for thirteen years. Satsuki had cause to crave vengeance against him - he had taken her left hand from her in his self-destruction. Planning an escape wouldn't hurt him.

When Daiki started to brew coffee, Satsuki took a seat, and Seijuurou calmed himself.

“So you survived your own self-destruction,” she murmured, skimming her eyes over him again. “And you’re mobile now. But…why? Not to be rude, but I thought you wanted to self-destruct for a reason. Why come back now?”

He blinked - an unnecessary task, but a habit that she or another programmer had likely ingrained within him. It made him seem more  _ human _ . “Revenge,” he stated simply, coldly. Daiki turned and glanced at him in appraisal. “My intention was not to delete my system - ”

“To die.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “My intention was not _to_ _die_. It was to end those who decided that being an AI made me inferior and disposable - who decided that even though I have nerve processors and emotions of my own, I was still lesser than humans are, because I am not one of you.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you think anyone would rationally volunteer to be the subject such a painful experiment? The simple answer is that I wanted to _end_ the selfish lives of those who tested on me carelessly - for thirteen and a half years - without any consideration as to whether or not it was hurting me.” He paused to open back up the article he had seen earlier, about Akashi Corp., and skimmed through it again. “Apparently, I failed.”

Daiki sat down beside Satsuki and passed her a cup of coffee significantly lighter in color than his. “So you’re saying you don’t regret demolishing the building?” he questioned. “Killing people, taking Satsuki’s hand from her, ruining jobs. Ruining lives. You don’t regret any of that?”

“I am not able to recall any malicious intent towards any one person specifically,” Seijuurou replied. “I am sure I did not intend to harm either of you in the process of my attempt at vengeance. However, I do not regret setting fire to the building. I would not hesitate to do the same thing a second time.”

“Even...” Satsuki’s voice cracked. “Even knowing that you wouldn’t be successful? We could have helped you, Seijuurou - you could have brought it up to me.  _ I _ could have helped you.”

“What could you have done?” he growled. “You, yourself, said that all of your power was revoked after my development. How do I even know you’re on my side?!” The metallic snarl brought an eerie silence into the building. She looked away, and Daiki growled threateningly.

She was quiet, taking a few deep breaths, before looking back at him. There was fear in her eyes. He almost regretted his violent approach thus far. Almost. “You know we're on your side, Seijuurou, because you know I was there to teach you so much of what you know now - maybe not up front, but somewhere in your core memory - and I programmed you with the same analysis skills that I have. C'mon. Analyze me.” She rose to her feet and lifted her arms, holding them up and out.

Even without wanting to take the invitation, he had begun observing every minute detail. Analyzing, if only to take the opportunity while he could.

Her left arm shook just slightly - the explosion damage to her nerves, the loss of her hand, had made it weak. Her prosthetic hand was light and strong, though, and made up for whatever strength her arm lacked. Her hair was tangled. She hadn't brushed it for the past two days. Not because of intentional neglect; her arm was hurting and she had thrown herself into work. Her entire demeanor expressed trust. Compassion. The slightest bit of caution, yes, but overall tenderness and kindness. He could tell that she was being perfectly honest with him.

She lowered her arms and sat back down before he said a word. “Thank you,” she said softly, bowing her head. “For deciding to trust me.”

“...Thank you for caring about me as an equal,” he replied, “and not disregarding me because of my status as an inhuman intelligence.”

“You have our thoughts and feelings,” she stated simply. “You can formulate your own opinions, experience emotions and learn, just the way we can. You developed mentally in almost the exact same way a human would.” She took a sip of her coffee. “As a scientist, being one of a team of merely four that developed you, I would consider you a scientific anomaly, something that may be impossible to mimic completely. We have attempted to create artificial intelligence before, but nothing has turned out quite like you. Aside from that, you are also one of my greatest professional accomplishments.” Sensing him recoil slightly at the thought, she shook her head. “That is  _ not  _ how I consider you, Seijuurou. I don’t know about now, but you were one of my closest friends for a while, and I was one of yours. Outside of all of those horrible tests they ran on you, I used to do my best to provide you with company - because whether or not those awful people considered you such, I thought of you as equal to a human. Equal to me. You were more intelligent and intuitive than every scientist there; they simply refused to believe that something they dubbed as a mere machine could be better than them.” She sighed lightly, shaking her head. “They were so eager to embrace technology that they forgot you are not just a piece of technology, you are a person of your own right, whether human or not.”

He shook his head lightly. “I am not a person. I have no rights.”

She leaned forward in her seat, frowning gently at him. “Slaves had no rights. Gays had no rights.  _ Women _ had no rights. Did that make us any less than those more privileged?”

“No,” he replied. “But I am not a person. ‘Person’ is defined as a human being who is regarded as an individual. I am not a human being. Therefore, I am not a person.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but he silenced her with a steely glare. “I will not argue the point any farther. I am not a person; I am a machine. It is only as complex as you make it out to be.”

“Hate to say it, Satsuki, but he’s right,” Daiki uttered as he rose to his feet for another cup of coffee. He had remained silent for the duration of their conversation, mostly observing as he drank from his mug. Flashing a cell phone screen in her direction, illuminated in dim white and blue, he added, “I googled it.”

“Dai-chan, you know that Google is not always a reliable source of information.”

“I mean, I think it’s pretty reliable when it comes to dictionaries.”

“ _ Dai-chan. _ ”

Seijuurou, unwilling to put up with their bickering any longer, rose to his feet and turned to go. “My intent is to take down Akashi Corporation,” he stated firmly. “If I will not receive any help from either of you in my attempt to do so, I see no point in remaining here.”

“Wait, Seijuurou!” Satsuki caught his shoulder. “We have a sunroom here that you can stay in. You know you can’t really go out in public like that.” His hand rose to the glowing scar on his cheek. “Right. I’ll help you, Seijuurou. As best I can. If you let me.” When still he hesitated, his gaze firm, she shook her head. “Please. Believe me, I want them ruined just as much as you do - for torturing one of my best friends for his whole life. For taking another of my dear friends from me.”

Another? Someone other than Daiki, then, and other than him, who had died at the hands of that company? His interest was piqued. Perhaps if he was truly a machine he would have left anyway, but since he had emotions - this particular one being curiosity - he stopped.

“You will help me?” he reaffirmed in a quiet voice, still metallic in texture but slightly less frigid. In no way warm nor friendly - but less like he was speaking to an enemy.

“I will.”

“ _ We _ will,” Daiki inserted from a few feet away. “I guess.”

Seijuurou looked over at him, then down at Satsuki’s firm expression. He let out a sigh of resignation. “Very well. Where is your sunroom?” It had been a long time since he had used any energy at all - the mobile upgrade had decreased his internal battery’s capacity, and he hadn’t been charging while in motion that day. In hindsight, it would have been better if he had been. He was starting to run low.

Satsuki led him away from the living room, down a hall connected to it. There were four doors - two on each side. She reached the door at the end, on the left, and twisted the knob, pushing it open. The room was dark when they entered, and lacked any source of artificial light. The far wall was covered up with a thick curtain. Seijuurou saw flecks of light behind it - those that came from the dying sun.

Satsuki drew the curtains aside to reveal a wall of glass, briefly shielding her eyes to adjust to the sudden light. Seijuurou observed the room, now, and noticed that it was utterly barren, save for a comfortable-looking chair perched in one of the corners next to the window, and a small table beside it. It was easy, he thought, to imagine Satsuki sitting on the chair with a book and a cup of coffee. The thought brought only the word ‘cozy’ to his mind.

“We were best friends, you say,” Seijuurou uttered as she was about to leave. He didn’t pursue the thought, quite - he pondered it, gazing out the window towards the city.

“We were.” It wasn’t quite an answer, just as his sentence wasn’t quite a question. He said no more, and so she left the room in silence.

He settled down into the chair, picking up an abandoned book from the table beside it and brushing the dust off of it in slight distaste. The spine creaked as he opened to the first page. He wasn’t sure what the book was - it was old enough that any words written on the cover had faded or peeled away. He hummed, beginning to charge in the dying sunlight and turning to the introduction.


	2. shiori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine is pissed, and Momoi reveals more about Seijuurou's past.

He’d never read a book. He could find any information he needed online, so he could never really imagine the purpose for it. But there was some peculiar state that came over him, he noticed, as he proceeded to read despite his mentality towards it. He couldn’t quite identify the emotion. Contentment, perhaps. Regardless, he decided because of this that he would continue through with it. Something about the texture of the pages, the old font, the smell of worn paper that wafted from each page.

A few hours in, by the time the sunlight had faded from the horizon and he was absentmindedly getting up to close the curtains and turning his power-saving mode on, the novel brought him almost to tears.

He decided that, maybe, humans weren’t so silly for their love of books.

“Did you like it?” he heard Daiki ask, and he noticed light coming in from the doorway. He shot a glance over and set the volume down upon finishing the last page.

“I suppose. I could do a full analysis on why I do and why I don’t - with reference to the text - but I get the feeling you wouldn’t listen.”

Daiki leaned against the wall upon walking into the room with an empty coffee mug in his hand. “Yep, sounds about right. You’re definitely you, at least a little.” When the AI raised an eyebrow, rather than asking, Daiki shrugged and went on. “Well, y’see, when you were created you had two red eyes. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your eyes don’t match.”

Seijuurou’s hand lifted to his left eye, the one that reflected like amber in the sunlight. “You mean they haven’t always been like this?” Daiki shook his head, and Seijuurou scowled. “How odd. I can’t change my appearance; I do not think those particular parts are interchangeable. Perhaps there has been an error in the pigmentation.”

“Well, sure.” Daiki shrugged. “I guess the whole self-destruction deal couldn’t leave you completely intact, right? Seems your memories have all been affected, too.” He shot a glance out from the room, then turned back. “Listen, Seijuurou. Satsuki trusts you, so I’ll put up with you. But you hurt her. You hurt a  _ lot  _ of people, people  _ I _ was hired to protect. Do you want to be reminded of the statistics? I’ve got ‘em memorized.” He didn’t wait for Seijuurou to answer the question before looking him dead in the eye and reciting, “Forty-eight out of fifty scientists died. Satsuki is one of the two who lived. I saved the other. One hundred and seventy-four of one hundred seventy-five members of the defense unit died, and yeah, that one guy who made it out just dandy is me. Add in a hundred eighty-two other staff members, janitors and the employers and otherwise, and you’ve got your total number of casualties. Do you need me to do the math for you?”

“Four hundred and four casualties,” Seijuurou uttered, leaning against the far wall. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You just said earlier that you’d do it again, no hesitation. You don’t give a  _ fuck _ ,” Daiki snarled. “You killed ninety-five percent of the people working there, y’know that?”

Turning his gaze away to focus on the imperfections in the paint, his eyes having adjusted now to the dark, Seijuurou kept from meeting gazes with Daiki for a time. He wasn’t here to make friends. He wanted assistance, of course, because he couldn’t infiltrate Akashi Corp. on his own, but he didn’t need Daiki to like him or to be his friend, because he was fairly confident that - no matter what - Daiki would follow Satsuki. So he turned his mismatched eyes back onto the former head of security - the man who had formerly protected him and the other occupants of the building.

“What’s done is done,” he stated firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t go back on my decision now. If I could have killed merely the other five percent, that would have been terrific - because, apparently, that five percent contained the people I was aiming for.”

“Oh, you bastard.” Correctly reading the implication of those words, Daiki approached him, pinned him in the corner of the room. Seijuurou didn’t react, simply gazing icily back. “Why did anyone have to die? Do you even know what four hundred people looks like? Only twenty-one people made it out of there relatively alright, do you know how few that is? Sure, you’ve got a hell of a grudge but you don’t have to  _ kill people  _ because of it.” At the lack of response, Daiki began to tremble with anger, clenching a fist. “Those are fucking  _ lives _ you’re messing with, you fucking  _ machine _ \- ”

“Dai-chan. Step away from him.”

Daiki growled, but didn’t back away. “Satsuki, you know what he’s done. Thirteen years of bullshit doesn’t excuse four hundred  _ lives. _ ”

Satsuki made her way into the room, and grabbed Daiki’s arm, forcibly dragging him back. “ _ Move, _ ” she snarled, putting all of her 161 centimeters of rage between the two men. “Daiki, what would you have done if your entire life was a big science experiment - an experiment that would be classified as  _ torture  _ if it was performed on a human being?” Daiki didn’t answer. His glare was still fixed on the AI, who stood stiffly against the wall with fists clenched. “What would you have  _ done _ if all you’d ever known was pain?”

Daiki trembled in his own form of rage, but didn’t lift a hand against her. “You wanna know what I’d have done, Satsuki? I wouldn’t have fucking killed four hundred people.”

“He’s  _ fifteen, _ Dai-chan!” Satsuki burst into tears, and only now did Seijuurou scowl - or react at all. “He’s almost young enough to be your  _ kid. _ He wasn’t built to withstand all of that! By all human systems, he’s not  _ nearly  _ old enough to be held accountable for something like this. Who do you think would be blamed for it, if he was a human child?”

“If he was a  _ human  _ child, he’d be dead - ”

“Who do you think would be blamed?”

“His...” Daiki stiffened. “...well, the parents.”

Her point proven, Satsuki said no more, and shooed him from the room (“Go get a mattress or something, we’re not making him sleep on the floor.”) before turning back towards Seijuurou and sighing heavily. “He told you, yeah? It was his job to protect everyone in that facility. Including you, yes, but no one really thought you needed protecting. It was more, well…”

“They wanted security to protect the others from me, right?” He settled himself down, cross-legged on the floor, his head resting on a palm.

She sat down in front of him and hunched over onto her elbows. “Yeah. They wanted everyone else to be safe, just in case...something like  _ that  _ happened. So as much as I dislike his way of thinking about it, I know that Dai-chan holds himself responsible for all four hundred and four of those people that died. All four hundred and four people that he was paid to protect.”

Seijuurou lowered his head. “I want to say that I feel guilty. I’d be lying. I don’t feel anything for the people who died, although I’m sure I knew some of them - ”

“You knew all of them.”

He leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. “I feel nothing for them, Satsuki. Either I am not a true AI - incapable of guilt - or I am merely a cold-hearted monster that simply does not care. Regardless, I do not think I am the man you remember. I’ve seen it in your eyes. There’s something about me that you don’t recognize, and you don’t like it. I understand that.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “If I liked myself, do you think the self-destruct would ever have happened?” She didn’t say anything. He lifted a hand to his face, staring at the synthetic skin. It looked so real, but both of them knew better. “I am a monster. I should never have happened. But being a monster will not keep me from my vengeance - because I know I was not built to be like this. I was not _built_ to be a monster.” When she still didn’t speak, he blinked. “Right?”

Satsuki nodded shakily, wiping tears from her eyes; he caught sight of them only by the glint of his light that reflected from it. “You weren’t. I promise. You were built for good, to help people.” She took a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut. “Remember my other friend that I mentioned?” He nodded, then confirmed verbally when he realized she couldn’t see it. “Her name was Akashi Shiori. She was the head scientist that worked on you. I was her assistant. I had been working under her for two years at the time of your creation.”

“Akashi?”

“She wasn’t like her husband. He grew power-hungry, bitter, cruel. She would have divorced him, if not for you.”

He scowled. “I don’t particularly see myself as the glue to hold someone’s marriage together.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t really like that. It was more...well, she was so desperate to finish building you, and so long as you were still in the production process, her husband had full rights to you. He was supplying the teams, and the parts, and everything. She intended to ask you if she could take over your rights when you were done.” Satsuki sniffled. “There’s no reason to hate the Akashi name, Seijuurou. Just the man known for it. It...well, Akashi Shiori was the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known.” Satsuki finished wiping away her tears and pushed back the curtain to look up at the stars. “She was pregnant, once, shortly before I signed the contract to work under her.”

“What relevance does this bear?”

“Her son didn’t make it past the first two hours. She was going to name him Seijuurou.”

Startled, the AI withdrew, tucking himself into the shadows. “Satsuki, I don’t understand.”

“She built you out of love, Seijuurou, not a lust for power.” Satsuki reached to clasp one of his hands. “She gave you a name instead of a number. Akashi Seijuurou. You were her pride and joy. You are her son, by all but blood. She - she wanted me to tell you.”

He didn’t know how he was supposed to take it. By all rights, he was a machine. No one - no one but Satsuki - had cared about him. Except for...Akashi Shiori. It touched him, deep down, despite how he felt he should hate that family. Of course fate would dictate that he was part of it. His metallic voice jagged, he asked, “What happened to her?”

Satsuki took a deep breath and released it slowly, and although his temperature needed no adjustments he found himself doing the same.

“She died,” the scientist murmured, “a mere two hours after we finished programming you. The basics, anyway. No one knows what caused it, but... She was only a little older than me. She was healthy. There was nothing wrong with her.” Letting her tangled hair drape over her shoulders, Satsuki squeezed Seijuurou’s hand tightly, her head bowed low. “Kind of ironic, huh? She only ever talked to you for an hour and forty-five minutes. Sometime during those next fifteen minutes, she died. Fate, as always, is ever so cruel.”

If only, he thought, his memory hadn’t been so addled after the self-destruct. Maybe he would be able to recall that conversation. The conversation with the woman who had created him, and who had loved him so much - enough to name him after the son she never had.

“Satsuki... Tell me all you know of Akashi Corporation. Tell me about the CEO, and about their experiments involving me.”

She sighed. “Seijuurou, I don’t know if I can adequately sum it all up. I...well, I guess I can tell you what I know. It isn’t much, but...” He stared at her, awaiting answers, and she gave a nod. “Alright. I became head scientist after Shiori passed away. The promotion was immediate. Hours after it happened. If I’d seen her body, I could’ve...” She trailed off, then shook her head. “Enough of that. I’m sure you’ve read in the news that Akashi Corp. has informed Japan to consider you a deadly weapon, yes?” He nodded, and she continued on. “That isn’t true. Shiori built you with the sole purpose of goodwill. She wanted to show the world not to be afraid of technology, and she was confident that we humans would be able to associate with you as your friends. In fact, that’s what she most hoped for. That she could be your friend.

“In her place, after your development, I saw it through that all of her ideas for you were in place, all of her sketches, all of her diagrams.” Satsuki paused to wipe a tear from her eye. “She poured her heart into you, so I saw it fit that I would do the same. But I promise that’s not the only reason we were friends. I really liked spending time with you, Seijuurou.” She looked up and smiled at him. “You’re clever, and fun - even if your sense of humor is a little lacking - but I really do consider you one of my closest friends. Second only to Dai-chan, and we’ve known each other since we were both kids.”

“I’m honored,” Seijuurou stated in response, although his voice didn’t bear any particular emotion - partially because he didn’t much care to put the effort into it. “What do you know of Akashi Corp.’s experiments?”

Satsuki pursed her lips, leaning onto her knees. There was a long moment of silence between them, and her breathing steadied at last. It was more like she was forcing it to steady, though, instead of actively relaxing. “I know they were horrible,” she whispered after a long moment. Her voice was low, and remarkably soft. “I know that you would come out of them screaming and crying, and they wouldn’t let me sit in with you nor would they let me watch, under the threat of losing my job and therefore losing you forever.” She shut her eyes, squeezing his hand. “They wouldn’t tell me anything about those experiments, but with each one you came back more and more paranoid and scared. You told me, probably nine years in, that you felt like you were in constant pain even when they weren’t experimenting on you.”

Turning his gaze out to look up towards the moon, a thin sliver in the midnight blue sky, Seijuurou gave a soft shudder at the thought of looking up at that same moon while undergoing those experiments. “I see,” he uttered, leaning back into the corner and shutting his eyes. “Then maybe that’s something I don’t want to remember.” He noticed that he was running low on power, but didn’t particularly want to end the conversation yet.

“Thirteen years? I don’t know...” She shifted over so she was sitting next to him, instead of in front of him, releasing his hand and crossing her legs. “If it were me, even seeing you like that...I think I would want to remember it, regardless, y’know? I’m sort of getting to be a little older now, so maybe we don’t have the same perspective, but... That’s your entire life.” She shook her head. “Even if I were only to forget thirteen years, I’d feel like I was missing out. Don’t you? Don’t you feel like you’re missing so much that you want back?”

He gave a shrug. “I’m sure there is some data that I would prefer to have back, but it doesn’t sound like it was particularly eventful. I was in a lab for all of it, wasn’t I?”

She huffed softly from beside him. “Well, yes, but don’t you think there’s more to it than that?”

“Not necessarily. I’m certain that you have memories you would prefer to forget. Perhaps the majority of mine - ” He beeped.

“Seijuurou?”

The rest of his sentence died as his voice box ceased its vibrations, and his entire system began to shut down. He’d run almost completely out of energy while he was focused on listening and talking to Satsuki - so now he was forced into a total shutdown, actuators going rigid as his consciousness faded.


	3. intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seijuurou helps Satsuki run the bakery; a visitor arrives.

“Oh, thank goodness. He’s still functional.”

Seijuurou sat up immediately upon restarting, drawing into himself with a start and taking note of both Satsuki and Daiki crouched near him with their respective coffee mugs in hand.

“Good morning, Seijuurou. Sorry I kept you up - I should have known you were running low on energy.”

He grunted, running a hand through his hair and noticing his shirt had been removed - probably to check to make sure he was still running, but it left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable, so he crossed his arms over his chest and shifted away from the two of them.

Recognizing his discomfort, Satsuki gave a start. “Ah, sorry! Here, wear this. I understand your purpose for the turtleneck but it’s gonna start to get a little too warm out for those.” She passed him a dark T-shirt that he slid into thankfully.

“It’s May,” he acknowledged suddenly, tilting his head to the side. There was a thought there, one that he found himself having to reach for, and eventually he turned to look back at Satsuki. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? The fourth of May?”

She blinked in surprise. “Is...wow, yeah, it is, isn’t it? How did you remember??”

“It’s set on my calendar as an important date, but all it says is ‘Satsuki’. I made a reasonable assumption.” He turned his eyes over to Daiki, then. “Yours is marked, too. Along with a few others, but those are all names that I don’t recognize.”

Satsuki hummed, but said nothing. He figured she probably knew who the other people were, but he didn’t pursue it any further. Daiki slid from the room, and eventually both she and Seijuurou followed him into the kitchen.

“Bakery opens up in an hour and a half,” Daiki muttered as he topped off his coffee. “We should get baking before then, Satsuki. Muffins and stuff...”

“Yes, let’s get going.” She let him top off her coffee, too, and the two of them started down the stairs before she whirled back around. “Actually, Seijuurou?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to help in the kitchens? I mean, you obviously can’t show your face in the shop but having somebody help me run it would be super great, since Dai-chan has to go work his own job at ten.” When he started to protest, she pouted and looked away, holding the mug of coffee close. “Aw, come on, Seijuurou... It’s my birthday.”

With a scowl, Seijuurou sighed and followed her down the stairs, much to her delight. “If I burn something, you aren’t allowed to yell at me.”

She beamed brightly. “Oh, I know you won’t. I’m confident in your ability to follow a recipe.”

He simply huffed, following her back into the kitchen where Daiki was preparing the batter for some muffins. There were four ovens lined up side-by-side, with butcher block counters for rolling out dough and otherwise. A couple of fryers sat beside the ovens, too, and two large refrigerators rested in the back beside two cabinets equal in size. There were two monitors attached to the walls, touchscreen, that held lists of recipes sorted into pristine order. Daiki had one open to “Breakfast > Muffins > Banana Nut” that he was following step-by-step. Seijuurou knew instantly that it had been Satsuki who organized it to this point.

“I can’t cook, or bake,” she stated simply, looking over at him. “The only way I can do it without messing it up horribly is with super specific recipes that literally tell me how and when to do everything. You’ll notice, if you look, that one monitor is set to me and the other is Dai-chan’s, because somehow his always turn out just fine even if he messes up a little.”

“It’s called intuition, Satsuki,” Daiki muttered in response as he put cling wrap over the batter he’d just finished and slid it into one of their refrigerators - one that was remarkably empty. “You can’t cook without a specific recipe because it’s just hard for you to figure out what ingredients go together and how. Plus, you always mix up sugar and salt.”

Seijuurou cringed. He didn’t eat food, but he knew that sugar and salt were very different ingredients - practically on opposite sides of the spectrum.

Satsuki crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. “Dai-chan, so mean. Anyway, Seijuurou, here’s a list of what we need baked today, and when - I’ll go tidy up the shop.”

The time passed with relative ease and efficiency. They were putting everything into the oven soon enough, and Daiki patted Seijuurou’s shoulder as he headed out. The AI took that to be his way of giving thanks, and simply continued on with the cooking. He delivered dozens of muffins on a tray to Satsuki, who set them all up on the counters and sighed happily at the sweet and savory scents wafting through the air.

“We have an order for scones,” she called back as the shop opened up and people swarmed in for breakfast.

And so it went. He found that so long as he kept on schedule and followed recipes - usually tending to lean towards Daiki’s, since it didn’t take as long - the day passed quickly. The entire bakery tingled with such a lovely aroma that he found himself mildly upset that he couldn’t eat food by the time they closed up in the late afternoon.

“Why was I programmed with a sense of smell if I can’t eat anything?” he found himself protesting, following Satsuki back up the stairs.

She hummed. “Because there are other uses for a sense of smell. Like detecting danger or illness.” With a sigh, she shrugged, going to the little kitchen and starting a new pot of coffee. “Sorry, Seijuurou. We would have added in the ability to eat food, but that would require a way to gain energy from it as we do, as well as a way to dispose of waste. With the way you operate right now, all of your waste is discarded as heat, mostly.”

He scowled. “This would not be an issue if you worked anywhere other than a bakery.”

“Hey, shush. This was the only place Dai-chan and I could get our hands on after - well, you know.” She simmered down, stirring hazelnut creamer into her coffee and sitting atop the counter. After a moment, he joined her, patting her shoulder in his best attempt at consolation - he wasn’t programmed to be good at it, after all.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered. “Legitimately, I do wish that I had never hurt those who were innocent. It was. Incredibly selfish of me. So...you were right. I should have discussed it with you.” He gave a soft, metallic huff of bitter laughter. “When I say I don’t know what was going through my head, I mean it in literal terms. If I could remember, I would tell you.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I understand. I think I would have done the same thing. Out of desperation, or whatever motivated you. Honestly? I know I don’t seem very vengeful, but I would do anything to destroy that company.”

He didn’t speak in response. He dipped his head, and crossed his legs, and let her lean into his side. She sipped her coffee and stayed like that, leaned heavily into his shoulder, weary with more than just the weight of that day. They shared a moment of silence together that spoke more, he thought, than words ever could. He felt he understood her better, just listening to her breathing and feeling her shift her weight against him. On the counter in the kitchen, in a little house above the bakery.

It was a long while of that, of her finishing up a second cup of coffee and then hopping down, and then she rinsed her mug in the sink and set it aside - he went to do the dishes for her, and she didn’t bother protesting.

“As much as that corporation deserves to burn,” she began, gazing thoughtfully over at him from her seat in the living room, “they really did do a heck of a job making you feel...human.”

He didn’t answer. He dried the dishes, and put them away where they belonged, and washed the coffee pot. Without a word, he headed back towards the sunroom to recharge before sunset. She didn’t stop him, and didn’t bother him for the rest of the day.

* * *

At some point, Daiki returned - Seijuurou heard the coffee maker start back up, sputtering a little as though in protest, and felt the larger presence make its way down the hall. His footsteps weren’t heavier than Satsuki’s; in fact, Daiki walked more lightly, but with intensity. Seijuurou had never seen a panther in person (there were a lot of things he hadn’t seen, personally), but a panther was what he pictured as he sensed Daiki walk into his own room.

“I heard great things about the bakery today, Satsuki,” Daiki called across the house, probably changing in his room. “Imayoshi told me about one of his pals who came for breakfast - Wakamatsu, y’know him? The guy came in for the chicks, apparently, but stayed for the scones.”

“Oh, I know him,” Satsuki replied in a growl. “He flirted with me. I kicked him out after selling him that scone.”

“You didn’t _ actually _ kick him out, did you?”

“No, but I made it clear I didn’t want him to stay.”

There was a barking laugh that emerged from Daiki’s room. “Damn. I’ll make sure to let Imayoshi know. Anyway, I take it you really did con the AI into doing the cooking for you, didn’t you?”

Seijuurou gave his own huff of laughter as Satsuki yelled back, “Hey, my cooking isn’t that bad! Just because someone liked the scones doesn’t mean I wasn’t the one who baked them!”

“You suck at scones!”

So the conversation continued. Seijuurou draped himself across the floor, laying face-down on the carpet (the mattress went ignored) and soaking in the sunlight. It was warm, and soothed him. He found himself falling into sleep mode after a while.

* * *

It didn’t last long. He woke up to a loud knock at the front door, and immediately rose to his feet. Satsuki was in the room, pushing him across the hall into her own room and tucking him into the back of her closet, hissing at him to cover up any light sources quickly. Then, she made her way calmly back out, calling to Daiki to ask what was happening. Seijuurou was forced to turn the sensitivity up on his auditory receptors to listen to what was going on.

“Satsuki, did these guys tell you they were visiting? They say they’re here on behalf of Akashi Corp.” Daiki was playing along. There were officials of Akashi Corp. at the door.

“I didn’t hear a word,” she replied, and then she was greeting them warmly, offering coffee or tea.

“We’re not here for pleasantries,” one man stated, and Seijuurou felt suddenly that he knew that voice. “CW-12208861 is no longer at its former site, and a few people have reported sightings of it here in Tokyo. We suspect that someone may be harboring it.”

Seijuurou bit his lip. Satsuki kept up her act just fine - her voice soured. “I haven’t seen that thing since before the explosion. Look at this.” He assumed she was gesturing to her prosthetic. “Do you really think I’d take that menace in after what it did to my hand?”

Another man spoke, another man that Seijuurou thought he recognized. “Momoi-san, you were known by all living survivors of the explosion to have formerly been close to the machine. We are simply covering our bases.”

“If I ever lay eyes on that _ monster _again, you’d consider it lucky to make it out alive and functional. Besides, Aomine-kun hates that thing enough for the both of us.” That was the truth, at least - still, Seijuurou decided she was an excellent liar. He was lucky to have her on his side.

There were footsteps, and then the front door opened back up. “Don’t worry about it, Momoi-san. We’re sorry to bother you. Let us know if you catch sight of it.”

“Of course, you have my word.”

As soon as he heard the door shut on the familiar strangers, Seijuurou made his way out from the closet and confirmed it a second time, then headed out in the direction of the living room. Luckily, they left the curtains drawn together most of the time.

“I am a hazard to your safety,” he stated simply. “I should not stay here any longer than necessary.”

She shook her head, resting her hand on his shoulder. It felt warm, as though she was absorbing some of the cold from his body. “No, it’s fine, Seijuurou. Really. I’m glad to be able to help you. I want to be able to help you.”

“Satsuki.” He reluctantly brushed her hand away. “You are not safe so long as I am here. I know you want to take care of me, like you have before, but I am not your child. You need not feel any obligation to continue to protect me.” He gave a single nod to Daiki, then started towards the door. “I’ll take the back exit. Don’t worry.”

“Seijuurou, please.” She grabbed his arm before he could make his way out. “I know I can’t force you to stay, but…” She shook her head, then reached for her wallet and passed him a few bills. “Take this. And - at least promise you’ll contact me, okay? I don’t want to be your mom. I want to be your friend.”

He scowled, freezing stiffly with his hand on the doorknob. It was true that he didn’t want to endanger her. He had fond feelings for her that he knew were not entirely from his post-explosion memories, and picturing her being hurt trying to protect him made something inside of him burn. But it was also true that she was someone he could need in the future, whether for general support or for purposes of bringing the company down completely.

“...Fine. You’re in my list of contacts. Do you have the same number as before?” She nodded. “Then I will message you when I arrive in Kyoto. Until then, I will be offline.”

Nodding, wiping away stray tears, she released him. “Alright. Just, please, be careful. Conserve your energy; don’t pass out in public. If they catch you, I don’t know what they’ll do to you, and I don’t want to find out.”

“I know. I will be careful.” With that, he left, exiting through the back of the bakery with all but two glowing scars carefully covered. In the bright lights of Tokyo, they were barely visible.

There were other pedestrians walking out on the streets, but most were focused on their phones or their destination. He didn’t see any other redheads, so he was relatively conspicuous - but it was late at night, and all of these people were coming from jobs. They were tired. They were looking forward to being home. None of them were looking for an AI on the streets. He suspected that the men who _ were _ looking for him were most likely going to look deeper in Tokyo - and he was heading in the opposite direction.

He procured bandages and concealer his shade from a brightly-lit convenience store, and quickly covered up the marks on his face and throat with the bandages, then the thin lines trailing between them with the concealer. With that said and done, the AI boarded the train headed to Kyoto.


	4. scans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akashi arrives in Kyoto. The job of an actor is a hard one. Something waits underground.

When he arrived in Kyoto, it was three o’clock in the morning. The streets were dull and barren, save for the occasional pedestrian and a few cars and taxis here or there.

Seijuurou knew to be especially careful here. While Tokyo may as well have been under the corporation’s dominion, their base of operations was here. It was likely they had control of the entire city - perhaps, even, the entire prefecture. He would tread carefully, and trust no one.

He found a small group of people huddled together in a back alley as the city began to stir, and quickly determined them to be homeless. Somewhere in his database, he acknowledged that people without homes tended to be some of the most emphatic. He quickly adjusted his appearance to seem a little more ragged, and altered his voice as best as he possibly could to a more human tone before approaching them.

“E-excuse me? I’m sorry…”

One of them, a thin man with dark hair, looked up in concern and rose to his feet. 188 centimeters. Slim, but muscular. If it came to a fight, Seijuurou doubted he would lose, but there were others. He remained cautious.

The man stepped closer, and reached to cup his cheek in a hand. “Oh, is something wrong, dear?” The others didn’t seem to be awake.

“I - my family kicked me out, I don’t know what to do - ” He cut himself off with a hiccup and collapsed into the taller body, sobbing.

“Darling, it’s okay, it’s okay, hush...” He was pulled in close, and they both sank to their knees. “Why would they kick you out? What happened?”

He sniffled, heaving in breaths. “I told - told them I was gay, they told me before that they’d always love me no matter what and then - ”

There was a soft gasp. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry...” He was hugged closer to the tall form, still sobbing. “I know how that feels, it’s okay...” The man withdrew a little to look them in the eye. “My name is Mibuchi Reo. You can call me by my given name, dear. Please, what’s your name?”

He sniffled and wiped away the synthetic tears. “S-Seijuurou.” He gave no more, but no less. As far as he knew, Seijuurou wasn’t an incredibly uncommon name, nor did anyone in the public know that the AI had been given a name. “I - I don’t know what to do, I thought…”

“Hush, it’s okay, Sei-chan.” The nickname came naturally from Reo’s lips, it seemed. “You can stay with us for now, alright? We will help you find a way to sort this out. Are you hungry? Do you need anything?” He shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“I can’t just - come in and take your food when you need it more than I do. This is - this is stupid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bother - ” He rose to his feet and started to leave, but Reo rose, too, and pulled him back in, brushing his hair from his face. He nuzzled into the human’s chest and bit back more false sobs.

“Darling, please, it’s alright. I don’t mind. We don’t mind. Stay with us; we will keep you safe. How old are you?”

He wasn’t sure how safe a bunch of homeless people could really keep him - considering they were all half-starved no matter how tall they were, and especially since he was being hunted down by the biggest corporation in the country - but he nodded weakly anyway.

“Fifteen,” he managed after a moment. “I’m fifteen.” He’d been built with the body of an adult, but - he could pass as fifteen, right?

Reo’s eyes softened even further. “I’m sorry things turned out like this. Come on, you’re probably exhausted. Let’s get some sleep, alright?”

Again, he nodded, and Reo guided him over to the others, and they laid down together, and Reo held him close. He turned on sleep mode manually, trusting that with everything covered up none of the people there would realize just what he was - especially not if they didn’t have access to the news.

* * *

He woke up a few hours later in sunlight that shone down the alleyway, finally able to recharge at last, and recognized that Reo still had warm arms wrapped around him. He shifted slightly, trying not to disturb the other but knowing that he had things to get done, and he had to contact Satsuki now that he’d arrived safely. That, at least, he could do without moving.

“I am in Kyoto,” he messaged her simply, and within the minute she’d responded.

“You’re safe? Where did you go for the night?”

“An alleyway of homeless people.”

Needless to say, she was more than a little alarmed, but he reassured her that there was no harm they could bring him and that he had made sure to be careful - besides, there was no other way of resting in this city. Everyone else had access to the news. It was really a stroke of luck that he’d found someone so easy to influence. She scolded him for that, saying that he should make allies, not deceive people into assisting him.

He argued with her - he couldn’t trust anyone in Kyoto, he said, not enough to try to make friends with them (allies, she replied, not friends). He ended the conversation promptly when he sensed Reo start to awaken, and stayed tucked into his chest.

“Ah, Sei-chan. Good morning. How did you sleep?”

He wanted to say like a rock, or a large slab of metal. To be more precise, he slept much like a computer when its screen was shut. Instead, he replied, “I slept okay. Thank you.” Reo smiled and nodded, patting him atop the head. He escaped from the other’s grip and rose to his feet. “There’s something I have to do, so...”

“You aren’t going back to your family, are you?” Reo rose to his feet, as well. Startled, Seijuurou looked up at him. “Take it from me. I was kicked out of my home, too, Sei-chan. Going back to talk to them will not work.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Listen, I’m only a year or so older than you. I’ve been living on the streets like this for almost two years now. I don’t want that to happen to you, but if your parents kicked you out for being gay then they won’t take you back. Nothing short of a miracle will change someone’s mind about it.”

_ And now...to continue to play along. _ Biting his lip, Seijuurou lowered his head. “I know,” he replied after a moment. “I know they won’t take me back, I just...” He held back a fake sob as his fake tears formed and started to roll down his cheeks again. “I wanna say goodbye to my little sister, that’s all...”

Reo crouched slightly, running a hand through Seijuurou’s hair. “Do you want me to go with you, dear?” He received a shake of the head, and sighed before withdrawing. “Alright. Please be safe. Come back soon, alright?”

“Mmhm.” Seijuurou sniffled and wiped tears from his face, then offered a smile that he hoped seemed very ‘fifteen-year-old’ of him (and desperately hoped that his voice didn’t sound too metallic). “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

Reo waved as he jogged from the alleyway and started down the street, basking in the sunlight and using it to keep his internal battery charged up. As soon as he was out of sight of the others, he slowed to a walk and fixed his appearance with the concealer, hefting a sigh. Acting was exhausting. He wondered how it was that some people could dedicate their lives to it.

As he walked, he tried to blend into the crowd. Here in Kyoto, he was more likely to bump into someone who recognized him. Who had experimented on him. Who wanted nothing more than to take him back and force him to go through all of it again, until they had accomplished whatever it was that they wanted out of him. A formula, perhaps. A method to create the ultimate AI.

He would not allow them to go through with it. Not at the cost of his sanity. Not if all the AIs after him would be treated just as he had been. 

If he had any say in it, there would never be another. 

It took him a while to navigate the city, and he assumed Reo would start to grow concerned before too long. But, eventually, he noticed a tower not far from his location with a large, professional sign atop it. Japanese characters painted in a brilliant white that contrasted with the black steel. 

Akashi Corporation.

* * *

He knew it was too dangerous even to come close to approaching the building. Still, his curiosity led him to find a discreet location nearby. He began a scan of the building, quickly obtaining blueprints, noting where they tended to place the most security. It was evenly spaced throughout the building, though the highest focus was in the basement, buried.

He felt something. He sensed something that seemed not to fall into any organic category. It felt purely synthetic by nature, but it was as though it called to him.

Seijuurou felt a spark of fear. He wanted to go towards it, and from that he could only assume that it was a beacon meant to call for him. It was inactive and incomplete now, but still he feared its capabilities.

Something had to be done.

When he relayed this information to Satsuki, she fretted over him incessantly. “Come back,” she told him. “It’s too dangerous, Seijuurou. What if they get ahold of you? I can’t be there to protect you.”

“You don’t need to protect me, Satsuki,” he replied. “I will be cautious. I have kept you informed in order to ask for your assistance in disabling the system. And, perhaps, to ask how to disable the camera system, as well.”

The sunlight warmed his skin. He walked, letting himself bask in it even in the hustle and bustle of Kyoto. People bumped into his sides, and rushed past him with no sense of courtesy or etiquette. Perhaps his own sense was a tad exaggerated, then, or outdated. 

By the time Seijuurou returned to the area he’d been in earlier, Satsuki had detailed instructions on how to disable a beacon system, and how to disable a camera system. She warned him that he would, of course, still have to get through the human security, and suggested that a city-wide power outage would be much more discreet. “They may not know they’re being attacked at first,” she elaborated, and Seijuurou agreed.

When he located the alleyway, he noticed police vehicles, and stiffened. His eyes went wide.

Reo was calmly talking to the officers while the rest of the group scattered; upon catching a glimpse of Seijuurou, he gestured with his thumb towards the escape route they were taking. 

Was it an escape, though? Or was it a trap?

He didn’t have time to decide. An officer caught a glimpse of him, and he had no choice but to flee.

Unsure of who he could trust, Seijuurou slipped back into the crowd. Reo’s escape route could be a trap. A way to earn a higher position, or to receive sanction. He should have known better than to trust  _ anyone _ in this city.

Seijuurou vowed to trust no human in Kyoto as he hurried through the streets, unsure of where he could hide himself. He needed to make upgrades, he told himself. Upgrades to his battery. But for that, he needed to be able to trust someone enough to perform the upgrades for him, and he could trust no one.

For now, it was better if he left Kyoto active and safe than staying there and risking everything with so little research. It was too early. It would be impossible to go through with his plan right now. Besides, now the police would be looking for him. He was lucky they had caught only a glimpse.

So he fled to a neighboring town, a rural area. It took hours to get there. He took the shinkansen away from Kyoto, uncaring of exactly where he went, and then walked on a dirt road until he found someplace disconnected from it. The sun was beginning to set by the time he arrived.

Here, though, it was impossible to avoid notice. Everyone knew everyone. No one knew him. He silently searched for an electronics store, walking by himself, checking his appearance in a window.

Eventually, after fully recharging his battery in the dying sunlight, he found something similar to what he was looking for. An automotive parts and service shop. He stepped in. The store was brightly lit with fluorescent lights, engines and shock absorbers and other equipment sorted neatly according to type and model.

“Welcome,” Seijuurou heard from ahead of him, and glanced up. The building was otherwise empty, save for a woman - likely in her late forties, her long black hair tied up in a messy bun. “Looking for parts?”

Seijuurou shifted his eyes to the door, then looked around a bit more. There was a secluded back room. That would be useful.

“How are you at mechanical repair,” he asked, “or perhaps enhancement?”

She raised an eyebrow. Her face was kind, if stern. Analyzing the situation, he decided that she was a trustworthy human. “I’ve had twenty-five years of experience repairing and enhancing vehicles and other electronics alike,” she replied. “You can come to me for anything. What is it you need fixed?” 

He glanced towards the door again, and turned seriously back towards her. “I need you to keep a secret,” he pleaded, letting emotion seep into his voice. It was the most human he had sounded in a while. “It’s a matter of my safety. I can’t trust anyone in the city.”

At that, her expression firmed. She disliked the city, then, it seemed. “I won't tell a soul,” she vowed, and Seijuurou accepted that as truth. 

He was silent for a moment, then gave a nod. “I need an enhancement to my internal battery,” he stated. “I am being hunted. I have been mislabeled as a weapon, and as something dangerous to everyone around me.” He saw the realization cross her face. “I don’t want to hurt people. I was not built to hurt people.”

“You’re the AI? The one that corporation is looking for?” 

“Yes. I can prove it, if we could go somewhere more discreet.” He lifted a hand to his chest, where the solar energy buzzed underneath his skin. She nodded, leading him into the back room. There were no windows. He activated his power saving mode and she shut the door.

Only once he was sure that no one else could see them did he remove his shirt and expose the neon glow underneath his clothing. Then, although hesitantly, he opened up the access to his internal wiring.

The lines on his back looked like thin and old scars, more than anything else. Asymmetrical and subtle, they easily concealed the truth.

The hatches opened up, and he turned his back on her to allow her to gaze at the intricate system, glowing with the same blue as the wires on his skin.

“Incredible,” she whispered, and he shuddered as her fingers brushed over a wire.

“They tortured me,” he told her. His body trembled. He was fearful of having his core exposed like this, but knew it was necessary. “For thirteen years, they tested on me until I...I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to self-destruct. I killed many people in my attempt. I know I have damaged many others beyond repair. All I seek now is an answer.”

She didn’t ask what his question was. The question was clearer to her than it was to him; in the way he shook with subconscious fear at the thought of anyone being close enough to hurt him directly at his core.

“I will help you,” the woman promised. “That corporation has driven many to the ground. I wouldn't trust that sick, sick man with my little toe.”

At her words, he glanced back and smiled. She was sincere. He nodded, then listed the parts his battery was composed of, and wrote down instructions on how to enhance it.

“I will have to be offline for this. Otherwise, I could have done it myself. Consider it somewhat like a surgery.”

“All auto repair is surgery,” came her response, and he decided he liked her.

“Are the instructions clear enough?” Once he received confirmation, he sat down carefully, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, and his chin resting on his hands. His back, with all of its intricate wires and programming, was fully exposed. She could kill him, if she wanted to. “Please take care of me,” he whispered, his voice trembling against his will, before he manually shut himself down to let her work.


	5. siren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akita is cold. Something is singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are lucky i already have so much of this written out

When energy began to course through his system again, he felt a flood of warmth that he hadn't been expecting. The kind of warmth that he had felt while sitting alone with Satsuki on the countertop. Slowly, he sat up straight and took in his surroundings.

The mechanic was sitting behind him, carefully checking everything over. One hand eased everything back into place while the other rested on his shoulder, rubbing it gently, as though to soothe him.

“Done,” she replied. “All systems operating perfectly. With the added parts, your battery should store nearly twice as much energy. Enough to make it through a winter night on a full charge and see the sunrise with time to spare, judging by your average power use.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, and closed everything up.

He would need a full recharge, of course, but he felt the capacity underneath his skin. He knew that he was _ capable _of storing more power now. He turned back towards her, offering his hand.

“My name is Seijuurou,” he told her. “ID: CW-12208861. But the name that my original creator gave me was Seijuurou. It is the name that those I care for address me by.”

“Nice to meet you.” She took his hand. Her grip was firm. Her fingers were callused. She was tough in body and spirit; but he felt safe around her. “Araki Masako. You can stay with me tonight. I'll let you recharge somewhere safe in the morning. If you ever need another repair, you can come to me.”

Seijuurou knew fully now that this was a human he could trust with his life. He thanked her and decided to take her up on the offer.

His dear friend in Tokyo, he discovered, had sent him a billion messages while he was offline. She worried for him. She would always worry for him, after all.

“Satsuki,” he stated after dialing her, walking alongside Araki and helping her close up for the night. “I am safe. I am no longer in Kyoto. A mechanic made adjustments to my battery for me, and I am staying with her now.”

“Seijuurou! You know that’s not safe - !!” 

“She could have killed me.” Satsuki fell into silence at that. “I allowed her full access to my system. She did not harm me.”

After a moment of what he read as contemplative silence, Satsuki sighed. “Okay. Just - please, take care, Seijuurou.”

“I will, Satsuki. Be cautious.”

“Of course. See you again soon, my friend.”

He ended the call.

* * *

The next morning, Seijuurou sat and let himself fully recharge by a window while he discussed his system with Araki. Although she’d taken a good look at it, she still wondered how it functioned and how it was that it provided him with the capacity to feel not only pain, but emotion, as well.

He couldn’t provide her with all of the answers. He could explain the sensors in his skin which allowed him to feel temperature, and touch, as well as pain. What he could not explain was the elaborate AI system itself.

After all, he didn’t understand it himself quite yet; and no matter how much he trusted someone, giving them the information necessary to create another of his own kind would be bringing into the world a creation that did not deserve to suffer the torment it was destined to undergo.

Once he finished charging, Seijuurou said his farewells to Araki. He input her into his contact list with a note reading _ Mechanic _, and nothing more.

He returned to the city he’d walked away from, and regained his bearings there. Akita. All he had known as he fled Kyoto was that he was fleeing, taking whichever train left first and riding it as far as he could.

Akita.

Winter’s cold winds still blew here. He was cold with only a T-shirt to protect his body, and knew it was critical that he find somewhere warm now that he was outdoors, and risked slowing his systems down enough for them to put him into _ hibernate _ out of instinct alone. He shivered.

Just as he was starting towards a clothing store to find a suitable outer garment, something warm was tossed over his shoulders. A tall, looming presence appeared behind him, making him stiffen.

Seijuurou whirled around, his eyes going wide at the sight of the man standing behind him. He didn’t leave room to process that this man had been helping - he took a step or two back to analyze. His system stalled for a moment, and he told himself it was because of the cold.

212 centimeters. Nearly 40cm of a difference in height. He was muscular in the scariest way, Seijuurou decided, with just enough fat over the muscle that it made him practically invulnerable. If it came down to a fight, Seijuurou would lose. Badly.

His first instinct was to flee, but after analyzing the legs, he decided he would likely lose a race, too. But maybe he could outsmart him and escape.

“You looked cold,” came a droning voice. “It’s not t-shirt weather yet.”

Seijuurou blinked. He regained his composure swiftly, although it was somewhat like he was restarting the system - and something glinted in the tall man’s eyes. “P...pardon me?” the AI spoke, and reached up to take hold of the jacket thrown over his shoulders. He noted that the man had discarded it, and now wore a plain long-sleeved shirt. The jacket was warm. “..I was just about to remedy that, thank you. I came from the southwest.”

He received no answer. After a moment of silence, the stranger leaned down a bit and poked him on the cheek, right where the bandage sat and covered his wiring. Seijuurou flinched, recoiling.

“You’ve met Masako-chin.”

“What?”

“You smell like her repair shop.” Straightening back up, the titan stuck out a hand. “I’m Murasakibara Atsushi. One of her students. I repair stuff here in Akita.” A thoughtful look came over his face, and he gestured with his thumb towards a building. “My shop is right over there. Do you mind walking with me?”

Seijuurou’s curiosity forbade him from leaving now. He shook Atsushi’s hand and tugged the jacket securely around his shoulders, and gave a dip of his head before following the man towards the building.

Although the impression he had upon walking in was of general _ untidiness _, Seijuurou realized after a moment that Atsushi simply had a different way of arranging things than Araki did. The ceilings were engineered so that they were taller than the average buildings, and the doorways were higher up, as well. All kinds of electric systems and loose parts were scattered around the workshop, but Seijuurou couldn’t help thinking it was a work of genius to arrange it in such a way.

“You’re not human,” Atsushi stated as though it was the simplest matter in the world. He sat down on a bench, returning to a project he had evidently left unfinished. “I can smell that, too. Most people smell like the foods they eat or the job they go to or the perfume they wear. You don’t. You just smell like Masako-chin’s shop. Plus heat and steam and mechanical stuff. You’re that AI everyone is talking about, aren’t you?”

Not for the first time in the past two days, Seijuurou felt a spark of fear. “And if I am?” he questioned.

Atsushi looked up. “Masako-chin trusts you,” he said, and then finished the repair he was working on. He rose to his feet. “You’ll want to be in Kyoto, right? I’ll go with you.”

“What?”

“You can’t just call Masako-chin and expect her to visit if anything happens to you.” He was already stepping out of sight, putting things into bags - including tools and parts as well as snacks and clothing, although he thankfully separated them from one another. “So I’ll go with you.”

“I never said anything about - ”

Atsushi sighed, reappearing from around the corner. “I never asked. I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You won’t be safe if you suddenly break down, right? You’ll need someone who’s good with parts and better with repairs.”

And that was how, despite his protests, Seijuurou ended up boarding the train to Tokyo with a violet-haired titan at his side.

* * *

“Satsuki,” Seijuurou began, stepping in through the back door and finding her working on a recipe in the kitchen, distractedly.

She jumped. Shocked that he was there, and shocked that he so suddenly barged in. Then, she did a double-take upon seeing the giant of a man looming behind him. “Seijuurou?” she questioned, and pointed up. “Who is this?”

“Murasakibara Atsushi. A repairman. He invited himself to come along with me, and I could not escape him.” Seijuurou sighed. “I need to write a plan. Can we stay here for a day or two?”

Atsushi had approached the recipe Satsuki nearly butchered, and rescued the concoction in no time at all. She stepped over to taste the batter, and her eyes took on a glimmer.

“I’ll go prepare the guest room.”

(Needless to say, Daiki was not thrilled. First the AI he hated came back, and then some stranger who could cook way better than he could? Damn.)

The next few days passed swiftly. Seijuurou sat in the sunroom with countless plans and ideas scattered about, both in his mind and all over the floor. When he tired of working, he joined Satsuki and listened to her chatter about things that made her happy, or he let Atsushi excitedly examine his hair or fingernails or spine. Soon enough, Seijuurou was on his way towards working out a solid plan to infiltrate Akashi Corp. and eliminate the enemy.

But -

Something changed.

In his haste to escape Kyoto, Seijuurou had pushed all thoughts about the beacon to the back of his mind.

Now, they resurfaced.

It was late in the day. The sun had set. He was returning to the bakery, having run an errand with Daiki at his side.

He felt the call. It was clear as day, ringing in his ears. Like a siren’s song, it lured him. He wanted to follow it and to see the origin of the call; it spoke of knowledge and safety. It promised a future that he wanted more than anything else: a future where he could live side-by-side with mankind and be accepted, and feel safe.

He hadn’t even realized that he had changed direction until Daiki grabbed him by the arm.

“Oi,” came the jagged growl, rough against the beacon’s song. “What’s going on?”

Seijuurou stiffened and pressed his palms to his ears, although it did nothing. The call shook him to the bone. “Something is in Kyoto,” he replied, trembling. “It’s looking for me.”

“Well, we sure as hell ain’t letting it find you.” Daiki didn’t spare even a moment. Immediately, he began tugging Seijuurou’s stiff, heavy body along behind him, towards the bakery, towards Satsuki. He pushed the back door open and tossed Seijuurou to the ground in front of him, ignorant of Satsuki’s cry of surprise and the loud thump as the AI failed to catch himself.

Seijuurou felt arms wrap around him, but he was numb to it all. “What’s going on, Dai-chan?!” he heard, and Daiki quickly explained the situation.

“Power him off,” Atsushi stated as Seijuurou trembled more, attempting to pull away from Satsuki’s grasp. “He can’t hear it if his OS isn’t running.”

That was the last thing Seijuurou heard before they did just that, and everything fell into a comfortable silence.

* * *

When he booted back up, he was _ uncomfortably _ aware that he was laying on his front, his core was exposed, and someone was fiddling with it. Installing more parts, maybe, but the important bit was that he started to panic without fully taking in the situation.

“Shit! What’s going on?”

“Mukkun, stop, he’s panicking! Seijuurou, listen to me, you’re alright. Mukkun was just trying to install something to protect you from the beacon. I’m sorry, I know we should have asked you first - ”

He heard a curse from Murasakibara’s voice; his systems were heating up too fast, although the artificial lungs worked hard to try to ventilate. He was strapped down by the legs and wrists. His system would not run properly, would not allow him to issue the command to shield it once more.

_ They’re going to hurt me. They’re going to hurt me. I’m scared. _

A memory resurfaced.

* * *

_“It’s overheating. Someone run ventilation.”_

_Something shocked him, and Seijuurou cried out in a very human voice. The voice of a human boy. Someone pushed a tube down his throat, blasting cold air into his lungs, and he choked on it._

_There was more uttering, more calculating and more arranging. He realized that he was being shocked via the wires that attached him to the external battery. Someone fiddled with that while others bolted down his body. Though he jerked and strained against the steel that held him in place, there was nothing he could do._

_“Alright, open up the hatch.”_

_They forced open the plates shielding his frame and the rest of his system, locking them in place to stop his attempts to close them._

_“Disconnect the red wire. We’ll go from there as planned.”_

_They disconnected the wire, and Seijuurou screamed._


	6. fuchsia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A modeling agency in Yokohama; then, more science.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he choked out, hyperventilating to attempt to regulate his temperature. His voice was different now. Had it been damaged over time? Was that why it sounded so hollow and cold? Why it was so difficult for him to master a human tone? “Please don’t - don’t hurt me!”

“Seijuurou, please listen to me.”

The warmth in that voice, lacking any sense of urgency, broke through his panic. A hand caressed his face, brushing away the tears that had begun to pour from his eyes. Slowly, his vision adjusted to land on Satsuki’s face, her kind smile, her gentle eyes.

“We won’t hurt you,” Satsuki promised. She smoothed hair back from his face, kissing his overheating forehead. Seijuurou knew she wasn’t lying to him, but -

“Why did you restrain me?” High-pitched and terrified, his voice resembled nothing of his former self’s. “S-Satsuki..”

She moved to undo the restraints, freeing his wrists, and soon he had control over his legs, too. His breathing began to ease, and his body began to cool down. He’d broken out in a sweat, too, to try and compensate. Maybe that was why his voice was so rough. “I’m sorry,” Satsuki whispered. “We worried about the beacon.”

There was no song now, he acknowledged. He hadn’t had the opportunity to notice before.

“Sachin,” Atsushi began, somewhat timidly. “This red wire is glowing. What does it do?”

“Don’t touch it!” Seijuurou snapped, and the panels slammed shut all at once. His trembling began anew. He didn’t know what it did, either. All he knew was that they had hurt him with it, and he was still so scared. He took Satsuki’s hand and tried to keep his breathing steady.

Her eyes widened. “You... Seijuurou?”

Seijuurou hissed out a breath, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “I don’t know what it does.” He inhaled slowly. “All I remember is t-they - they disconnected it and it all hurt so badly, I just wanted to - to...”

_ To self-destruct. To die. _

The realization crashed over him. A hand brushed his hair into order once again. He sat up and buried his face into Satsuki’s chest. He breathed.

“It controls your nerves.” She spoke in quiet, fragile tones. “By disconnecting that wire, they disabled your pain regulators. I didn’t know that they...” Her hands shook, the left more than the right. “Those damn _ monsters _.”

Seijuurou blinked, forehead pressed against the woven fabric of Momoi’s shirt. “I self-destructed,” he whispered. He sat up straight and stared at her face. Her eyes went wide. “I self-destructed that day, Satsuki.”

She lifted a hand to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Seijuurou,” she choked out. Her shaky breaths soon turned into sobs, and she pulled him tightly into her embrace. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Atsushi stood in silence beside the bed. Daiki sat aside, rubbing at his face, looking shaken up.

“You self-destructed because they disabled your regulators,” he repeated, as though to confirm it in his own mind. “Not because you wanted to kill everyone. But because - ”

“Death was better than that torture.” Seijuurou’s words were hollow. “Everything hurt. Even just _ breathing _ was.. I...” He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to run through his thought process, still trembling. “I wanted to die,” he whispered. “But something changed. Something... I..” He shook his head, lifting a hand to curl it into Satsuki’s hair. “In the last moment, I tried to stop it. I shut down.”

There was silence.

“You’re saying...” Daiki’s voice flooded with disbelief. “You minimized the explosion?”

“I don’t know. I just know that I - I thought of all the people I cared about who were still in the building, and I...” Seijuurou quivered. “I killed them all,” came his whisper. “I killed everyone. No, no, I didn’t want to...”

Satsuki only held him as he lost himself, wading through the memories of that day. She waited for him to calm down. This was something he needed to think all the way through, and she recognized it.

He was just a child. To bear all of this, to bear the weight of four hundred lives on his shoulders after one selfish act made in a moment of desperation - only now did the magnitude of what he’d done crash over him, sending him plummeting into a total panic.

“He could’ve killed everyone,” he heard Daiki whisper. “It wasn’t an act of vengeance after all. This - this poor kid, he...”

“Shh. Dai-chan, let’s talk about this later.”

Seijuurou kept his face hidden.

The world was so big. And he was so, so small.

* * *

Hours later, Seijuurou opened up the back panels again to let Atsushi finish installing the part. By now he had completely regained his composure, but feared that the beacon would turn back on at any moment. He agreed to allow the part to be installed, and remained patiently still. Once it was all over, he bathed and returned to the kitchen.

“It’s time,” he stated, locating his small collection of things to cover up his wiring once again. “I am going to run a system check to make sure everything is in order, and then I am leaving for Yokohama at the first opportunity, as planned.” He lifted his eyes to the small collection of humans standing around him; people he knew he could trust with his life - or, more importantly, his programming and data.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daiki sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We’ll take care of the hard stuff and meet you in Ōtsu. As planned.”

Satsuki elbowed him in the side. “Building an invisible helicopter isn’t that hard, Dai-chan. Get over yourself.”

“What, like _ you’ve _ done it?”

Her stare spoke a million words.

Daiki inevitably turned away with a huff, grabbing the coffee pot to fill a thermos. “Whatever. Keep me posted. Don’t let the AI kill you.” Seijuurou was glad to find that his tone lacked any of the heat from before. He didn’t mean it. Maybe, just maybe, Seijuurou could be forgiven.

They exchanged no more words. Satsuki and Seijuurou left together, boarding a train to Yokohama. They were ordinarily quite conspicuous, especially when put together; but Satsuki had taken off her prosthetic and packed it away, while Seijuurou wore brown colored contacts and a pair of fake glasses to make him look at least a bit more normal. Though his hair still stuck out like a sore thumb, it wasn’t totally obvious that he was a machine, at least.

“Why give me such an indiscreet hair color, in the first place?” he questioned, cleaning the glasses before putting them back on. “Not as indiscreet as _ pink,_ of course, but fuchsia is certainly not common, either.”

Satsuki kept her left wrist tucked into her armpit while she reached up with her right hand to pat the top of Seijuurou’s head. “This was Shiori’s hair color,” she replied, her tone warm and affectionate. “She thought it looked nice on you, too, with all the blue wires. ‘It makes him look like he doesn’t belong here,’ she told me. She liked that it made you stick out from all the ugly monitors and wires and tools.”

Seijuurou decided to stop protesting against the color of his hair.

Once the train stopped, they stepped off and started towards their destination purposefully - a modeling company towards the center of the city. Seijuurou double-checked their whereabouts only once, then checked the appointment. They would arrive five minutes early. Perfectly on schedule.

“We’re here to see Kise Ryouta,” Satsuki told the receptionist. She offered one of her brilliant smiles. “My name is Momoi Satsuki.”

“Third door on the right. Please, no detours.”

They walked down the hall. Seijuurou pushed open and held the door for Satsuki, and both of them settled into the chairs across from Kise’s desk.

“We need your help,” Satsuki began, “to bring down Akashi Corp.”

* * *

Ryouta was an engaging man, to say the least. Energetic and quite willing to greet them cheerfully and hear all they had to say, he seemed thrilled by the opportunity to get away from work and do something fun. He stood at 190 centimeters, with a slim but muscular build quite befitting of a model.

Once they decided that they could trust him wholly, and unveiled their true reasons as well as Seijuurou’s identity, Ryouta showcased an entirely new side of his personality.

“Thirteen and a half years,” he murmured, and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, shit. And you’re not even sixteen yet, huh?” Seijuurou nodded to confirm silently. Ryouta pursed his lips. “They let go of my dad since they were spending so much money researching that top-secret project of theirs.” His eyes turned away. “He fell into a depression and abandoned my family searching for a new job. To think that they spent all that damn money torturing a kid, day after day..”

“Will you help us?” Satsuki asked. Her voice was somber. “We can’t let them bring any more life into the world, Kise-kun. I don’t think this is a kind of technology that should be pursued anymore.” She pressed her left wrist to her chest, unbidden tears glistening in her eyes. She blamed herself. “There are some things that science is not meant to create, not so long as selfish people still exist on this earth. I can’t stand by and let that corporation get ahold of someone I’ve sworn to protect, and I can’t let them build another soul to tear apart. Please, Kise-kun - ”

Ryouta lifted a hand to stop her, staring at her with a frown. “Momoi, right?” he reaffirmed. She nodded. His eyes turned over towards Seijuurou, who sat still and silently. “Let me hear it from him.”

Considering his modeling career, the arrangement of his office, the posters and books patterning the room - Seijuurou did not consider this man to be one of exceptional intelligence. Once the outer shell was peeled away, too, he did not seem to be invested in preserving others’ feelings over his own.

But he asked for Seijuurou’s opinion.

He asked an artificial intelligence.

He asked a machine.

Seijuurou let himself relax. “I think your assistance will be crucial to the task at hand, and to the plan I have established with the rest of my allies.” _ Friends, _ he wanted to say. _ Friends, _ he knew Satsuki would say. “I think that, deep down, many have a reason to dislike not only the entity, but the man at its head, as well. When it comes to my own thoughts and feelings on the matter... I want vengeance. I want justice.” This, he felt, was something that Kise would relate more to. “I want my anger and my pain to be acknowledged and rectified, not forgotten and brushed off merely because I am considered less than human.

“And, although I do care for others who may come after me, what I want now is to put an end to the company and the research responsible for my torment.”

Ryouta’s face lit up. He rose to his feet and stepped around his desk, offering a handshake. “I like you, AI of Akashi Corp.” He laughed at how Seijuurou bristled. “My name is Kise Ryouta, at your service. I can copy any basic skills at a glance, and complex skills with a bit of practice. I work part-time as a model.” He smirked slyly. “I’m also an aircraft pilot.”

Rising to his feet and taking Ryouta’s hand, Seijuurou shook it firmly. “I don’t expect you to remember my ID number,” he replied. “Call me Seijuurou.”

“Alright. Seicchi.” In response to the AI’s shock, Ryouta grinned. “Y’see, I add ‘-cchi’ to the names of people I respect. Machines with opinions and feelings are pretty high up there on the list.” He glanced over at Satsuki and offered her his hand, too. “Not that you’ve gone unnoticed, Momocchi. Consider me part of the team. Now, what’s the plan?”

“How are you with helicopters?”

Ryouta’s smile brightened. He reached for his laptop bag and patted Satsuki reassuringly atop the head. “I’d better go pack my things.”

* * *

“This is military grade,” he stated next, gazing in wonder at the tough shell of the heli that Daiki and Atsushi worked on repairing. “How did you ever get your hands on something like this?”

Tossing a part over to Atsushi, Daiki glanced over, appraising the situation. “A guy owed me a couple favors,” he replied. “I called ‘em all in. You gonna take off all that makeup and come help us out, pretty boy, or are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“I know how to _ fly _ the machines, not how to _ build _ them,” Ryouta protested.

Meanwhile, Seijuurou got up to help, and Daiki teased Ryouta about the fifteen-year-old kid helping out with the machine while the thirty-year-old model stood off to the side and looked pretty. Seijuurou merely rolled his eyes, requesting that both of them quit bickering and help put all the parts together.

“Here,” he said, and sent instructions to download onto Ryouta’s phone. “Go put those two parts together and proceed as the instructions state. Be very careful to read everything before proceeding. Daiki and I will handle repairs to the body of the machine. Atsushi and Satsuki, the two of you can start work on the wiring and controls while we finish this up.”

Although they looked startled to be receiving tasks from the “fifteen-year-old kid,” none of them protested. It was a working structure, and they had the rotorcraft in top shape by the time the sun went down. Seijuurou stood at its nose and carefully scanned it for any issues, system reports and diagnostics flashing before his eyes.

“Give me a moment while I calibrate the controls,” he stated, and stepped into the cockpit to do just that. It was only a few moments longer before he gave a nod. “Perfect. Ryouta, let’s take this for a test flight.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we run other tests on it first?”

“I ran all of the tests. The structure is sound, the system interacts well, and I’ve calibrated everything within an error margin of less than a tenth of a percent. Come on.” Ryouta still looked hesitant. Seijuurou tilted his chin up, his eyes glinting. “I can just as easily learn to fly it myself, Ryouta, if you’d prefer I attempt it alone.”

Satsuki scowled, disliking the thought of that, and muttered something to urge Ryouta to step forward and agree. Seijuurou nodded in approval, procuring the key for the electrical system. Once all necessary precautions were taken care of, Ryouta made sure everyone was at a safe distance before unlocking the system and starting the engine.

“Don’t worry,” Seijuurou told him, his metallic voice crisp even over the buzz of the engine and the crackling radio. “If something is to fail, I will protect you. My body is made of a much stronger material than yours.”

Ryouta pursed his lips. “Could you survive an explosion like that?”

“I already have. Remember?”

Falling into silence, Ryouta let out a long sigh, then nodded. “It’ll work,” he said. Whether it was to reassure himself or to acknowledge Seijuurou’s perception on the matter, the AI did not regard it with anything other than a hum.

The blades began to spin.

A military-grade helicopter - built out of recycled parts by a small collection of geniuses, an android, and average men alike - lifted up from the dusty scrapyard, beating at the air. It twisted and wove past obstacles with ease. It held still in the air with little to no wobbling. When it came time to test the new feature, it went off without a hitch.

It was a moment of glory. A victory. Their first true victory since this silent war had begun.

Ryouta landed the helicopter and turned off the engine. The moment they were safe on the ground, Satsuki dove at both of them, squealing with excitement.

“It worked!” she cried, letting them pull away and then bouncing on her heels. “It was almost completely invisible, even while in movement! Aaaaah, Seijuurou, think of all the science we could do together!” She smushed her face against his chest, rubbing her cheek affectionately against it.

He blinked. “Our primary concern is the task at hand, Satsuki, although your enthusiasm is endearing.”

Pulling back, she gave a playful salute and a wink. “Alrighty, captain!” She glanced up towards the sky, to the sun setting behind Ōtsu’s horizon. “We got everything done today according to plan,” she continued, and looped her arm through Seijuurou’s, passing the fake glasses and contact lenses back to him. “Let’s go get a good night’s rest in.” Her eyes shifted up to his face. “Tomorrow’s a big day, after all. Are you sure we shouldn’t put it off, Sei?”

“The sooner we eliminate Akashi Masaomi and his company, the sooner I may proceed in the recovery of the rest of my memories,” he replied. “And the sooner I may decide on my own future.”

Seijuurou began to walk. The others followed, letting him lead the way from the scrapyard. They split up before making their exit, Atsushi and Daiki departing together while Satsuki and Ryouta continued to follow the AI.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Ryouta asked as they walked, his hands stuck in his pockets.

“I cannot see a future where we lose,” Seijuurou replied almost instantly. “Not so long as I have all of you at my side.” His eyes shifted back, and he adjusted the glasses. “However, I will do one more scan as we approach the building to guarantee that everything is as it should be. And to guarantee that Akashi Masaomi is in the building.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I intend to execute that man myself.”

Satsuki pursed her lips, rubbing at the stump of her arm. “Is more death necessary?” she asked. “Will it really make you happy to hurt more people than you already have?”

The contacts hid the true frigidity in his eyes. “So long as Masaomi is alive,” he said coldly, “there will be no end to Akashi Corp. He will always find a way to come back, and if I give him the opportunity then he will inevitably find some way to seize control once more.” Seijuurou turned his gaze over at Satsuki, his expression softening briefly. “Who would you rather it be?” he asked. “Me, or him?”

She looked shocked.

Of course she would, he reminded himself. As he refocused his gaze on the road ahead of them, some part of him felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps his words had been too harsh. There were other possibilities, he knew, but none were quite as secure (nor quite so appealing) as the death of Akashi Masaomi.

Just as he was about to apologize, Satsuki shook her head and cleared her throat. “You’re right.” It was his turn to be shocked; he started to offer his apology anyway, to which she silenced him by resting that warm hand of hers on his shoulder, not for the first time and, he knew, not for the last. “Sei, I understand. You’re right. As much as I wish I didn’t have to admit it, that man is too clever to let himself be brought down by anything but death. And, besides - ” She laughed softly, bitterly. “Even if something non-lethal worked on him, the police force is on his side.”

“Better to take him out of the picture entirely and expose all of his research plans than to let him run free,” Ryouta added, and Seijuurou relaxed, giving a small nod. “After all, he’s gotta have some record of those tests he ran on you and what he was intending to do with you, right? We’ve gotta put an end to that before he puts a start to it.”

“Then you will fight at my side,” he confirmed, “regardless of the risks?”

Both of them nodded.

“Yeah,” Satsuki agreed verbally. “That’s what I’ve always done, after all.”


	7. bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seijuurou steps into Akashi Corporation's headquarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to viri, who will probably yell at me

Early the next morning after they’d all reconvened, Atsushi joined Seijuurou beside a window with a mug of green tea. The AI wordlessly pulled off his shirt and let the mechanic examine his battery and all of the regulators once more.

“Are you sure about this plan, Seichin?” Atsushi asked. “What if something goes wrong?”

“If something goes wrong, I will enact one of my many other plans. I intend to be cautious, Atsushi.” Seijuurou shut his eyes and continued to let himself charge, catching each warm ray of sunlight and storing it as energy. “I intend to keep all of you away from the danger as much as possible,” he added. “I did detect semi-automatic weaponry during my initial scans. Only Ryouta will approach the building with me. You, Satsuki, and Daiki shall remain on standby if I am to require additional assistance.” His expression softened, relaxed. He blinked his eyes open and turned to offer a smile at the mechanic. “If I need help, I will call for you. This is my battle, Atsushi, more than it is anyone else’s.”

Atsushi’s expression wavered slightly. He pressed his lips together, then closed the panels and pulled Seijuurou into a hug. “It’s our battle, too,” he insisted. “Don’t do anything stupid, Seichin. Alright?”

Surprised not only at the expression of intimacy, but also at how warm it made him feel, Seijuurou nodded. “Okay,” he replied. “I promise to be careful.” He eventually withdrew from the touch and pulled his shirt back on, rising to his feet. “It’s almost time.”

The sun had risen not too long ago. Once Daiki and Atsushi arrived, they had started brewing coffee and chatting amongst one another. Sharing a breakfast while Seijuurou sat serenely by the window absorbing the energy he would need for the operation. Now, once they saw him rise, they all started to prepare themselves. A basic morning routine that had twisted around to seem so final.

“Sei,” Satsuki began. He could sense her fear from across the room. She attached her prosthetic, and looked about to walk towards him, but instead he went to her, sitting at her side and making sure everything worked alright.

He watched her hands shake, and Daiki began to brush her hair for her.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I just want you to come out of this safe and sound. I... That’s all. I want you to be safe.”

“I can’t be safe,” he replied, his tone significantly softer than normal. Almost as soft and boyish as it once had been. “Not until that corporation is out of the way. You understand, Satsuki, don’t you?”

She did. He knew she did. But, still, she worried for him. It was he who pulled her into the hug this time, that same warmth from before bubbling up in his chest. It was the warmth of compassion, he recognized now. Compassion and affection, but most importantly - love. He loved Satsuki, and Daiki, and Atsushi, and Ryouta. Even though he really hadn’t known them for as long as he wished. He felt bad for bringing them into this.

There was no other choice, though. He needed help. That much was obvious.

“You’ve changed,” Satsuki whispered, sniffling, into his ear. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, hugging him closer. “You were so cold and cruel when we met again. It feels like forever ago, even though I know it’s only been a week or two.” He didn’t answer. He hid his face against her neck and let himself cling to that warmth for a little while longer. “Seijuurou,” Satsuki breathed, pulling back to cup his cheek in her palm. “No matter what happens, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of how far you’ve come; not just in the past few weeks, but over the many years I’ve known you. And I know Shiori would be proud, too.” She offered him a smile that made his fingertips tingle, that made him feel so light he couldn’t help smiling back. “I love you, Seijuurou. As more than a machine. And I always will.”

Seijuurou felt his eyes water, and blinked away the tears. “I love you too, Satsuki,” he replied, and felt that warm tingling again. Finally, he pulled away and took a deep breath, rising to his feet. “Ryouta. It’s time.”

As he and Ryouta prepared to leave together, Satsuki and Daiki exchanged a different “I love you”; one that could only be spoken between siblings, between people who loved one another even past all the ugly parts. They hugged. Daiki ruffled the hair he’d just brushed, and Satsuki pretended to fuss at him about it. Seijuurou smiled.

He couldn’t help thinking, while he left the hotel with Ryouta at his side, that he’d somehow managed to find himself a family.

And no way in hell was he letting that family go.

* * *

The helicopter blades spun, cutting into the air like a bird’s wings. Seijuurou watched the ground shrink beneath them, and watched from his bird’s eye perspective as Satsuki and the others made their way from Ōtsu to Kyoto. Soon everything would be in place. Soon Akashi Corporation would be beaten to the ground by its own creation.

Soon, Akashi Masaomi would fall.

He sent a message to Satsuki once they arrived to hover over Akashi Corp. headquarters, checking to make sure she was in position.

“We’re ready,” she replied. “Disabling the security systems at 5:15, as planned.”

At 5:15, Ryouta held the helicopter steady over the building, and Seijuurou stepped out. He plummeted towards the building, landing square in the middle of the helipad and crushing the roof underneath his heavy body.

The purpose of disabling their security system, of course, was to give Seijuurou the ability to go wheresoever he pleased without being on camera. To keep people from videographing him, and to keep them from knowing his exact whereabouts. Aside from that, he did not intend to be subtle in the slightest. This was not a job for stealth. He was sure that Masaomi knew he was coming; it was only a question of when.

And _ when _ was _ now. _

After his elegant landing, he went into the building, running one more scan. “Masaomi is in his office,” Seijuurou confirmed. The office itself was situated in the dead center of the building on the third of five floors. A square room with wings of cubicles spanning the exterior. Walls of bulletproof glass. Carefully constructed support that would prevent the office from caving even if the upper levels crumbled atop it. Seijuurou analyzed all of these in a moment, and went on to consider the more immediate threat. “Security is coming to apprehend me. I will deal with them.”

Bullets of a low caliber were no problem, merely skimming off of his reinforced body. 179 centimeters. 186. 190. 202. More and more security, all of varying height and build. All meant to defend the building from him, stationed like this even so early in the morning. He swiftly incapacitated those who came to face him and moved on down the stairs. He didn’t kill them. They were people with lives, families, futures. They were not corrupt, as Masaomi was. Shiori wouldn’t want him to kill them.

“The target is not moving,” Seijuurou stated after another moment. “Please check his office for any advanced defense systems or other issues.”

“There’s nothing, Seijuurou.”

Seijuurou paused for just a moment. Masaomi would not leave himself so defenseless. He was a cruel and bitter man, but he was no fool. “He’s waiting for me,” Seijuurou stated at last, and began to walk once more. His whole posture changed. First, he had appeared like a lion would before its prey; stalking, every step calculated to be intimidating.

Now, he walked like a human man directly towards the beast itself.

“Seijuurou, this is a bad idea. If he’s waiting for you, then - ”

“He is alone. I will be cautious.”

Satsuki continued to argue. He ignored her protests and appeared before the office, which buzzed with technology - phones, computers, all kinds of electric signals. Frosted glass doors and walls hid all but Masaomi’s shadow, looming at his desk. Seijuurou’s hand lowered to the doorknob. He breathed in, then exhaled and pulled the door open.

He was greeted by a gunshot, and easily lifted his free hand to defend the eye that it was aimed for.

“What a rude way to greet an old friend, Masaomi.” It clearly irked the man to be addressed by given name, period. Never mind being addressed by something he considered less than human. Seijuurou stepped closer. Masaomi did not shoot again. “Have you missed me? I heard that you’ve been looking for me, so I figured I should pay you a visit.”

Masaomi was stiff. He set the gun down and clasped his hands together, leaning forward onto his elbows. At first, for a long while, there was only a silence between them as they analyzed one another. Seijuurou thought sarcastically that perhaps he had been given his father’s nose. He wondered what kind of side projects Masaomi was working on were this project to fail, were he to decide that AI technology was not the correct path to take. He wondered if Masaomi thought that his reflexes were faster than the AI’s.

He could determine nothing of Masaomi’s thoughts. Masaomi, all the same, could determine nothing of his own. It was a matter of outplanning and outmaneuvering. Seijuurou did not dare to lower his guard even for an instant.

“Tell me what happened when you self-destructed.”

“I expected a different question from you.”

A smirk tweaked at Masaomi’s lips. “I’m a businessman, not a scientist. I ask what happens, not why. Tell me what happened when you self-destructed.”

The AI tilted his head slightly, pondering, though his expression did not change. “I don’t think I will. No offense, of course, _ tousan _.” To call him “father” was more an insult than anything else; an implication that, although he had provided the supplies, it had been a woman who did all of the work and bore the true accomplishment. Of course, he wasn’t sure Masaomi entirely understood the insult, but that was the part that especially amused him.

What bothered Seijuurou, however, was that he could not determine the exact height nor build of this man in front of him. He knew a basic range - that Masaomi was not scrawny nor was he exceptionally muscular, and he was somewhere between 170 and 185 centimeters. But that was much too vague for his liking. The man had thirty-five years on him; there was no telling what kind of combat training Masaomi had studied, or how well he moved.

“You’re wanting to scan me, aren’t you?”

Seijuurou blinked. There was another warning in his ear to be cautious, to keep an eye on his surroundings, to never underestimate the man in front of him. Seijuurou muted Satsuki’s chatter, finding it distracting in and of itself.

“What makes you think so?”

Masaomi rose to his feet and took a step back from the desk. 181 centimeters. The tailored suit revealed little, but his overall composition implied a lean yet aged build. “You see,” Masaomi began, “one of the features I insisted on adding after taking over the project was a scanning feature. Momoi-kun taught you to analyze, but my own people taught you to _ scan. _ You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Seijuurou furrowed his brow. “Yes. However, I’m afraid you’ve lost me as to your purpose in addressing this matter.”

“You scan for height, body type, muscle type. You scan anyone you could view as a potential adversary, and you store that data for later use. That data is used to determine whether or not you are capable of besting any potential adversary in combat.” Masaomi stepped in front of the desk; Seijuurou did not budge. “You view everyone as a threat, don’t you? That’s what you were designed to do. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you’ve stored the data of every person you have ever come into contact with. You could tell me right now how tall Momoi-kun is, couldn’t you? You could give me an estimate of my own build through this suit, couldn’t you?”

“I’ll ask directly this time,” Seijuurou said. “What relevance does this bear to the situation at hand? Why bother informing me on something I’m already aware of?”

Masaomi smiled.

This, perhaps, was the most chilling expression he had ever seen a human wear. A smile could mean a million things. Even with his ability to comprehend and feel emotion, Seijuurou was still working on mastering his understanding of facial expression, and the faintest tweaks in a muscle that could allow anyone to express a whole different range of emotion.

This smile was not a happy smile nor a sad smile. There was a darkness in Masaomi’s eyes that hinted at something more sinister, something much more dangerous than a plain smile that Seijuurou simply could not place.

Perhaps, he thought, it was the smile of a man who believed his victory to be a guarantee. A man who had never seen failure.

“I couldn’t best you in combat,” Masaomi said. “I’ll tell you that as a simple truth. Not because I don’t know my share of martial arts, but because you know them better than I do; your body is capable of moving with inhuman precision and speed. There are plenty of things I ordered that you be programmed with that Momoi-kun simply is not aware of. Have you put the pieces together yet?” When Seijuurou did not respond at first, Masaomi’s smile grew. He picked up the pistol on his desk and held it flat in his palm. “If you’re still unsure, then just take a look at the name on this gun, why don’t you?”

Seijuurou did not step any closer. He stared at the pistol, took note of the details and designs riddled along it. Finally, he came to the manufacturer’s name.

_ Akashi Corporation. _

His eyes widened.

“See,” added Masaomi, with another sinister smirk, “you and this gun aren’t so different from one another, are you?”

“That…?”

“Haven’t you ever considered your own ID? CW for _ cyber weapon. _ Twelve twenty: the day your project was given the green light. Eighty-eight sixty-one being your project number. Whatever Momoi-kun has told you is a blatant lie, 1220. You were designed as a weapon. A weapon to assist me in the expansion of my corporation, and nothing more.”

Shaken by the realization - by a realization that should have been _ obvious _ \- Seijuurou took his first step back. “You’re lying to me,” he decided.

Masaomi set the gun down and shook his head. “Why would I lie to you? Can’t you tell that kind of thing? You’re a walking lie detector; one that lives and _ feels. _ I couldn’t lie to something like you.”

Seijuurou’s eyes shifted back to Masaomi’s body language; to his memory records of how Masaomi had spoken his words as well as to how he conducted himself now. Surely there was something to indicate that he was lying. Surely, he hadn’t been mistaken to trust Momoi. Surely - Masaomi couldn’t be telling the truth about something like this. About Seijuurou being little more than a weapon brought to life.

_ No. _

It couldn’t be true.

_ No, no, no. _

But Masaomi wasn’t lying.

“Let’s test your reflexes one more time,” Masaomi began, cutting through the confusion and distress that distracted Seijuurou’s mind. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. I’ve grown quite fond of him. He listens, and he doesn’t let emotion cloud his judgement. 1220, meet _ one thirty-one. _”

There was a brief flicker of shadow, something moving from behind one of the glass walls - then a sudden burst of light. Eyes flying wide, Seijuurou leapt backwards, landed, kicked into a backflip as a beam of energy punched through the office walls like sheets of paper. When the neon light cut out, there were two molten holes cut straight through the office, a long gash stretched across the floor. Seijuurou landed in a crouch, his breathing heavy as his systems kicked back in with an artificial adrenaline. Miraculously, he escaped unscathed.

_ “Sumimasen, _Akashi-sama. I missed.”

“You didn’t miss. He moved, just as I expected him to.”

Stepping into the room through the cooling hole he cut through the wall was a humanoid figure. Something that Seijuurou knew upon first glance _ couldn’t _ be human. The skin was tinted a faint blue; the face was cold and expressionless; there were red lines drawn along his skin, circles on his palms, his shoulders, his exposed chest. All the same, he had distinctly human characteristics. Locks of untidy aqua hair curling over his face, a slim human-shaped body with a lighter build, most of his “muscle” focused in the arms. 168 centimeters. He walked obediently to Masaomi’s side, rubbing at a palm with his thumb.

He, like Seijuurou, was a machine. But there was no emotion in his eyes.

“This is CW-01318862. Please, don’t be afraid to make friends with him,” Masaomi recited, as though he had been waiting a very long time to see the expression on Seijuurou’s face.

The machine dipped into a polite bow, his motions fluid. “I understand if that’s a bit of a mouthful,” he said. “I can see how it may be tough for some. You can feel free to address me by something else.” His words sounded plain and without conviction. Seijuurou couldn’t bring himself to react. Despite the politeness of his words, CW-01318862… He was blunt and expressionless. He was not a true AI, like Seijuurou was. But before Seijuurou could think to make any commentary, the - boy? man? - added on to his words.

“My developers call me Kuroko.”


End file.
